The gun is steady in my hand, the weight of it not giving me a bit of comfort. The cold of the metal, the unforgiving of its mold matches the way I feel inside. Hardened steel, molded and made by the hands of men, the firearm gives me no fear and only feeds the burning in my soul for retribution.

Aiming it at him, thoughts of how I got to this place rush through me. The choices that were stripped, the consequences of actions and life that was altered and changed forever. All of it weighs heavy on me, but my strong shoulders hold it.

Being a warrior is in my blood carried through me from my parents. Eye for an eye is our motto and they would expect nothing less from me.

The blood pumping through my veins was once a life source. Now, my sole focus, and the fury that courses through me is fueled with every beat of my heart by vengeance.

He looks up at me, eyes blank.

“Bye, Ryker.”

Without a second thought, or a moment of hesitation, I pull the trigger.